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Post by birdy51 on Mar 18, 2017 19:24:10 GMT
"Personally, I could care less for the plants." Hugh says dismissively. "They taste inferior to the protein slop. But I am certain that we could get you more little plant things. Rosebud is such, tiny creature. Imagine if we find, larger creature."
The mountain man chuckles and leans back into his seat. Ohoho. He was looking forward to such a meeting; to make nature bow down to his mighty fists. Already, he could see the wheels turning in her head. Remmington already seemed to be squarely in their corner, which caused him great comfort. Diana only needed a little push, though Alyssa was quite problematic.
All that remained was Edward.
"You know," Hugh began softly. "I bet we could find, new materials on the planet to replace those we use here on Gol. We've been working with the moon rocks and the spare metal from the Bard for so long. Wouldn't it be nice to finally have something, new to work with?"
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Post by ThRevanchist on Mar 19, 2017 1:04:29 GMT
With most of them presenting a unified front, it seemed as though the Council was entertaining their Project. That was good, especially if he was correct in assuming that half of them were already in support of planetfall. With Hugh persuading Edward through the promise of material gains, that may well have left only Alyssa to convince of the value they still held.
Carefully, Ulrich said, "That storm was Vorp's and Doctor King's response to being beset by an overwhelming number of attackers, when he had been assured of a relatively peaceful event. The incidental damage to the surrounding area is unfortunate, but given that we were all unprepared for an attack of that magnitude, perhaps only to be expected. In all the time he has been on Gol, that was the first anyone had seen of such a storm..." He... wasn't certain that would actually persuade her one way or the other, especially when none of them knew the damage that the attackers could have caused. It was probably more grievous than the damage Vorp caused through a single storm, though, and shouldn't that count for something?
He wouldn't voice that latter sentiment, though. Better to deal in absolutes, and leave as little to (a negative) interpretation as possible.
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I'm not going to say it was damage, but it was damage.
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Apr 10, 2024 12:51:43 GMT
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Post by Robot on Mar 23, 2017 18:54:39 GMT
Delilah watched Hugh with a surprised sort of curiosity as their security representative gained more headway in a single statement on the material needs of Gol. It hadn't been particularly poignant, but the way Edward's face lit up, Hugh's statement had just enough education behind it to be encouraging. Ulrich's attempts at smoothing tempers and spreading the fault for the event thinly seemed only to rub the wrong way.
Evan, ever quiet, but attentive draws on his wealth of social experience to get a better feel for the dynamic of the council. Diana and Edward both are content to be passive figures in the boardroom. The success or failure of this project has no immediate benefit or detriment to their fields, and as such they are simply here to fulfill obligations of someone in their respective positions. Remmington and Alyssa clearly have history, both being very outspoken and prone to bickering. The former appears to be very progressive thinking, and is willing to make sacrifices to shake up the status quo. The latter is extremely conservative and would rather maintain a healthy median then take risks to improve the future of Gol.
"Alyssa." Edward spoke up after more of an exchange between her and Remmington, which was legitimately starting to get heated and a bit off topic from the purpose of their visit. "I'm moving to support this. There's only so many times we can recycle materials before they don't have any strength left. Within the next generation, maybe two, we'll have to instate restrictions on reproduction until we can get more housing materials. Forget the disease and the rest of it, Gol will just be too cramped, and Bard isn't just going to swing back by and drop us more. That's three for."
The shrewd woman scowled at her paperwork for a moment, and began closing a few of the open folders, before sliding one across the table to rest in front of Delilah. "Very well then." She sniffed in a bit of a hurt tone. "This folder contains your new mission statements... new clearance levels... and technical loadouts for the last remaining ship at our disposal. It is with a great deal of trepidation that I grant you these. They are our last attempt at survival, and not to be weighed lightly."
"They won't be." Rosewood assured her firmly, a certain spark of giddyness in the way her hand settled over the folder.
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Post by birdy51 on Mar 23, 2017 19:29:48 GMT
Hugh allowed himself a smile. Just a small one. A handsome one that he hoped and prayed didn't look like a slasher monstrosity. "We shall not let you down." He intones quietly, breath hot and heavy. But inside?
Inside, Hugh was elated. No, Hugh was thrilled. No stupid narrator! Hugh, was positively ecstatic. Finally this project could get off the ground! Now, they stood on the edge of a brand new age of glory! Forefront of Gol's newest exploration front! Team Carnate! Explorers and warriors, extraordinaire!
No more lounging around getting fat off of protein! No more dying boredom! Freedom upon the Paradise, with foes by the dozen to be conquered! Oh how his heart sings! He stood up from the table, reaching to shake hands with the assembled. "We thank you for your time. It was a pleasure to meet you all." Hugh says with a smile.
Upon reaching Remmington, he gives the old boy and extra firm shake, not the limp wristed fish-coddling that he was forced to give everyone else. He couldn't let him down. No! Hugh could never let him down.
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Post by DataNinja on Mar 23, 2017 21:04:49 GMT
What the council says intrigues Evan more than their decision. He didn't imagine that it would have gone any other way. They'd sunk too many resources into the project, made too many sacrifices so far, and... if it went wrong, the most that they would probably lose would be some expendable underlings. Not a single one of the councillors had brought up anything involving the citizens, he notes. It's all 'materials this' or 'security that', or 'logistics the other thing'.
Not to mention, things seem much worse off than has been let on. Material shortage, possible population control measures, and so forth. No wonder they want the whole Bread and Circuses of the Pokémon to distract the population. Even if that first display backfired a little bit.
Regardless of how much he agrees with the 'take it slow' approach, especially since they apparently have such limited resources, it seems as if the majority of the council doesn't prefer that approach. And why would they, really? If anyone's going to end up suffering the consequences of things, it sure isn't going to be the elite. And that's part of why, no matter how much of a bad taste things might cause, he'll have to stick with the project. No matter how small, his is one of the few voices for the populace at large. That, and the Carnate Engine itself. Using it just makes him feel more at ease than he is at most times in his life. It's an odd feeling, but one that he certainly doesn't want to give up.
Evan's ready to get away from this meeting, but there is one thing that he wants to ask first. "So, how much, if anything, of what we're doing is going to be told to the public at large. I assume some, given that whole display with the Pokémon. I just want to know what's allowed to be talked about, and with what... narrative." Propaganda's such an ugly word, after all.
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Post by ThRevanchist on Mar 23, 2017 21:54:41 GMT
While Ulrich was rather displeased by the implication that Alyssa left, that they would even think of squandering such an opportunity, she - and the rest of the Council - had still granted their request. Given how these usually went, it would be best to just leave it at that...
Although, as ever, it seemed Evan had different, dangerous ideas. With their more influential members handling the closing of the meeting, he listened to that quietly, from his seat. The sooner they could leave, the better, but until then not giving the Council any reason to doubt that decision (experience indicated that involved speaking with them at all...) was the wisest course of action.
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I'm not going to say it was damage, but it was damage.
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Post by Robot on Mar 25, 2017 9:28:01 GMT
The council exchanged murmured pleasantries with the man mountain's dismissal and summary handshakes. Edward's was firm, but not testing, as any working man's grip should be. Diana daintily lit her hand atop Hugh's thick fingers for the briefest of instances, before drawing it away, and Alyssa politely declined.
When it came to Remmington, there was the distinct flexing of his wrist, and bulging of the forearm. YOU MEASURE A MAN BY THE STRENGTH OF HIS HANDS! Locking eyes with Hugh, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth while the two silently shared a moment of strength. "I'd like a word in private when we're done here son, some congratulations are in order. I take care of my boys, and you're going to be the first boots on the ground in generations."
At Evan's question, the militant man and Alyssa shared a long look. Diana and Edward did the same, though theirs seemed more geared towards a 'what now' then genuine concern for the question posed. "Given the present threat to your staff and research projects, it is probably better if you wait until you are off of Gol. Imagine you can broadcast what you want after that when there's no risk of you being touched. Cept for return dates, and your cargo. The kind of stuff that might compromise you when you get back. Hugh seems on top of it."
With a soft, nasal sigh, Alyssa nodded her agreement, the meeting preparing to adjourn.
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Post by DataNinja on Mar 25, 2017 20:25:43 GMT
Oh, yes, I'll imagine, all right, Evan thinks, I imagine that what we send back will be twisted in whatever way you want, to suit your needs. And, of course, we'll have no way of knowing. We'll be cut off. He makes a mental note to watch what he sends back - assuming the whitecoats ever let him near anything, that is - and try and not give them too much to work with. Of course, if it's all done via text, rather than audio or video, it'd be a lot easier to fabricate. All he says, though, is, "I'll keep that in mind."
Once the meeting adjourns, though, he thinks through what they'd heard. Were they actually going to leave Gol? not just the Pokémon? It wasn't something he'd considered. He'd figured that they'd just send the Pokémon back, and operate the engine here on Gol. But... perhaps it didn't have the range. These questions aren't exactly ones that he'd considered before, what with not actually having to deal with any of the technical things. All he ever needed to know was how to get ready to engage. Everything else was the whitecoats' problems. But possibly going down? That's an opportunity he'll jump at. If he's going to die, he'd rather it be off Gol than on it.
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Post by birdy51 on Mar 27, 2017 10:58:08 GMT
"I would relish to hear any advice from a decorated man such as yourself, sir." Hugh replies majestically, heaping on the praise out of the pure respect that he felt for Remington. He was not like Ace, who was so often a false friend to upper management. No, Hugh help a grave respect for the few authority figures in his life, and yes, he would give his life for them should the occasion prove itself necessary.
However, he had not quite realized that he himself would be going to the planet. Strangely, he had always assumed that he would be still stuck up on Gol, while his phantom feet danced the planet's edge. No. He would be on the PLANET. What divine danger! What extreme excitement! Hugh could hardly keep from shuddering. Oh blessed limits of technology! Willingly, he would go and willingly would he FIGHT to keep his crew safe.
Danger would make his blood pulse and quicken and reawake the man he truly was inside.
Warrior. Soldier. Guardian.
His heart quivers.
For now though, he bided his time until there was an opening to speak to Remmington in quiet. Then perhaps, the great Hugh would consider drawing some of his funds out of savings for a little celebration. This was indeed a time worth celebrating after all!
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Post by ThRevanchist on Mar 28, 2017 20:48:57 GMT
Yes, yes, keep quiet, it was a foolish question anyways. Any statements their team needed to make would have no doubt gone through the Project Head, and trying to speak out against it in those circumstances was an exercise in foolishness. Still, he ought not to have expected anything less from... Wait. Off of Gol?
As in, on the surface? Planet-side? Why were they not informed beforehand? Was this decided in light of the recent terrorist attack? But how could they consider the surface safer? Bah, it was pointless to question their motives, though. With a quiet sigh Ulrich said, "Don't worry, even Evan has the good sense to not reveal sensitive data." Doubly so, with Hugh on watch... A simple assurance would probably get the point across, so he kept that addition to himself.
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I'm not going to say it was damage, but it was damage.
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Post by Robot on Apr 1, 2017 11:18:49 GMT
With the departure of the council members, for the first time in the history of the facility a full staff meeting is called. The kind but firm lead of the medical ward staff, Joy, as well as the full security complement, engineers, Bill, and Jacob all gathered around the meeting table with Ulrich, Evan, Hugh, and Delilah. The contents of the folder very much needed discussion, because things were about to change, drastically, for everyone involved.
Inside the folder itself are a set of key cards and passes for Gol's only shuttle port, likely the most secure area on the entirety of the artificial moon. Replicating the technology used to build crafts such as the Illiad and Odyssey has proven fruitless without more resources, though if this was part of Bard's machinations or simple inconvenience in the state of things was anyone's guess. With these invaluable key items was a series of dockets regarding the operation and maintenance of the ship, and the requirements of Carnate's key staff.
We of the council, having watched your actions closely and digested the bulk of your research, have accepted that Project Carnate is what is best for Gol. As it's engineers, caretakers, and testers, holding the inner workings of so complicated a technology in mind this task falls to you as a collective. Dire times have fallen on what we call our homeworld, this surrogate. With our remaining spacecraft, and our hopes, the surface must be made safe for humanity if our colony is to survive, and you are the individuals so chosen for this task now.
We have made a large sum available to you, to outfit the Odyssey to suit your needs, and additional security staff will be relegated to the movement of your equipment, Pokemon, and personnel to the launch site. While we must impress the need for urgency, take the necessary measures you need to get the affairs of your staff and equipment in order. It would not do to rush this task and cause failure down the line as a result. With this, a pair of prototype Golett, courtesy of the Devon Group will be accompanying you in a quarantine aboard the vessel. They have assured us these specimen will be able to function on the surface, and the research is sound. They will assist you in tending the vessel, and building on the surface.
Time only seems to blur from that moment forward. Bill refuses to go aboard the vessel as staff, as he's not the slightest knowledge of spacecraft and getting on in years wants nothing to do with it now. He remains on payroll to maintain the facility in the absence of it's usual hustle and bustle as a groundskeeper of sorts. In private he can't help but smile and talk animatedly about it to Evan. No whitecoats, no Pokemon, no messes, no experiments. Just checking for fires and making sure things are kept up to snuff. It couldn't get any better unless he was retiring!
Hugh's talk with Remmington comes and goes without real incident, and he's given the closest thing to a tearful, heartfelt goodbye from Ranger. With the appearance of the 'Champions' at the parade, someone needed to remain behind and on watch in the event the facility was breached. Joy could always use a little extra muscle in the ward as well, so the purpose was twofold. Ace tries to make a party and a show of the separation but the quiet and reserved man-mountain has none of it, dealing with it using his usual quiet strength to cuff the smaller man across the ears. A few drinks and some quiet conversation in a much more subdued affair ensues. Gunshow remains close in these days, examining the bonds the men share, and the workings of security.
Ulrich's time is largely spent ensuring the components of the Carnate engine itself are packed safely. Each individual chamber has to be taken apart and re-assembled aboard the spaceship. It is a meticulous affair requiring tight supervision, with each unit taking several days to move. Mentally exhausting as it is, there's something awe inspiring about seeing the Odyssey for the first time. The scientist gets to be the first of many that will lay eyes on it.
Without any testing going on, or much ado with the whitecoats, Evan is free to spend some time to himself. Three and Rosebud seem to have taken a liking to each other, and when one is in his quarters often both are. Their discussions are quiet, and occasionally the attempt is made to include the human, but they are neither disturbing nor unwanted. Rosebud will occasionally climb to a position above and behind Evan and attempt to read what he is reading. These explorations are usually met with a lot of blinking, headshaking, and grumbling as though he thinks he should be able to make out the characters but can't.
Jacob continues to have his hands full with Vorp, but is beyond pleased that things are pressing forward. He remains a frequent face when it comes to discussing with the public, and in dealing with the events of the parade.
Carnate's facility seems so empty without much of it's equipment or staff, but the day arrives. Ace comfortably nestled in the pilot seat of the Odyssey, having done simulations most of his life for this. The refits for the signal array, reinforced blast door safeties on the airlocks, a quarantine room and several containment areas (the former being a bit more comfortable then the latter being the only true difference), and one of the major cargo spaces now denoted to the Carnate Engine and it's individual units making for the major changes to the ship's load.
Launch time approaches, the Pokemon are onboard, the time for the forward march of humanity has again arrived.
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Post by DataNinja on Apr 2, 2017 3:22:03 GMT
After congratulating Bill on his cushy position, Evan makes the most of not having any work to do. They wouldn't trust him with the machinery anyways. Avoiding everyone else is pretty much his priority right now, since that would probably prove near-impossible once onboard the ship, and off planet.
It seems as though his room has become the de-facto hideaway for Three, and now Rosebud. Were the Carnate engine not being moved, he might be suspicious of Rosewood keeping tabs on him, but, as it is, that seems unlikely. They probably just wanted company. He can understand that desire, but it also semi-fascinates him. The two are entirely separate species, yet there's some sort of bond between the two of them. Certainly more of one than Evan has felt with most of the rest of his species.
After the third or fourth time Rosebud tries to read over his shoulder, Evan, for a little bit every night, takes to finding a - generally simpler - piece of fiction, and reading it aloud to the Pokémon. Without the Carnate engine, he isn't able to tell with certainty if they understand him, but, given prior interactions, it seems like they probably can, in some capacity. Partway through the first book, he wonders if any of the creatures found in fantastical fiction would sound familiar to the Pokémon. For instance, the "Space-Bat-Angel-Dragon" of the second part of this book. It would be an interesting question to ask, but not one that he'd ever likely get the answer to. Not without revealing the true capabilities of the Carnate engine, at least.
Filing that idle thought away for later, he does make a note to himself to requisition at least a few works of fiction for the journey. Preferably more than a few, given that they'll be out there for who-knows-how-long. So, for now, best to just enjoy the moments of peace and quiet that he can get.
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Post by birdy51 on Apr 2, 2017 13:27:34 GMT
Hugh woke in the morning like any other morning and flexed in the mirror. But these mornings were different than other mornings, and couldn't shake the ominous feelings that Hugh harbored deep in his heart. Never had he ever felt such a weight of responsibility upon his shoulders; the knowledge that the fate of Gol was in his hands. Truly, it was terrifying! One slip up here would destroy the very idea of any expeditions on the surface. They, and only they had the ship. The only ship in all of Gol! Assigned to them! Madness!
Once upon a time, he had dreamed of going down the surface. But now that the time was getting so close, was the great and powerful Hugh getting gun shy?
Maybe.
The thought unsettled him and made it hard to sleep. During the interim, Hugh had been known to wander the halls at night, checking to make sure everything was secured. He couldn't fail. He would not fail! Failure was not a word in his mighty lexicon! But, the possibility of the great, imposing word 'maybe', lingered.
All was quiet now. Hugh could only hear his own massive breath. This was a heavy burden. But he would be strong enough to bear it. Consideration of all thoughts otherwise would be considered as high treason. Hugh was no traitor. Hugh could not abide by traitors. Fifty push-ups. Up, down. He wouldn't fail. Up, down. On the ship, they'd sail. Up, down. Onto a planet, foreboding. Up, down. Dangerous, frightening. Up, down. Existential. Completing. Up, down. Up, down. Up.
Home?
Hugh wiped his brow of sweat. It wouldn't be long now. They would board that ship unto a new horizon. A whole world to conquer in the name of Gol. He would have to be ready.
No!
Hugh, my friend, you beautiful bastard.
Hugh couldn't have been more ready.
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Post by ThRevanchist on Apr 3, 2017 1:08:20 GMT
As involved as he was with transferring the Carnate Engine, Ulrich's time was all but swallowed by this leg of the Project. Yet, could there be a better use of his valuable time? The scientist thought not.
Really, getting recognition from the Council had been everything he thought, and more. The ship - Odyssey - was one thing, but being responsible for installing one world-changing machine inside another carried its own unique appeal; truly groundbreaking! That the essential staff (plus one operator...) would be travelling to the surface might have been a surprising turn, to ride such a magnificent ship, and champion their inevitable expansion down... Well, it was enough to make that researcher giddy. Never mind any minor trepidation when they first heard the news.
Devon Corp's contribution was unexpected, though. If the absurdly strict standards the Council expected had been met, then they were no doubt laboratory-proven, but especially in the early stages their gifts would need to be watched carefully. To be tripped up when they were so close to their goals, and because of technically proven technology no less, would be only the greatest of farces... So, they would exercise due caution, and the prototype Golett would go be used responsibly. All was well.
When it was finally the day of their triumphant departure, Ulrich was, in a word, excited. All their preparations had gone according to plan, their pilot... They had seen him often, back at the facility, no? Well, even he was confident in his skill, which, together with passing all of the mechanical checks, meant that everything that could go right had, and there ought to be no delays! Had there been time, the human might have liked to spend some of his time leading up to today with the Yamask, but... There were only so many hours in a day, and it could live without his attention for a few weeks: Belying its size was quite a tough or simply indifferent specimen. So, interactions between Ulrich the Original and Ulrich the Second had been few and far between.
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I'm not going to say it was damage, but it was damage.
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Apr 10, 2024 12:51:43 GMT
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Post by Robot on Apr 7, 2017 1:16:09 GMT
Ulrich the Second had been scarce in those days, making token appearances to Ulrich the First in the dead of night. These encounters are perhaps not as startling as they should be, having an ephemeral creature screech to announce it's presence beneath your bed, or in the cabinets. It is in some ways like owning a cat, if books are to be believed. Lost sleep and slight frustrations aside, the ghost is secured with his fellows.
Jacob has a seat in the passenger cabin beside Professor Rosewood and belts in. Conversation begins in earnest between the pair, but is kept to low tones, barring intensely close eavesdropping or proximity it will be difficult to know what they are discussing. There is plenty of space for individuals to spread out here, the seats being heavily padded with a number of restraints and a headrest that wraps about the sides of the skull. (For sense of scope, this room alone is probably the size of the cabin of a passenger airplane). Ace is secured in the room just beyond, but pre-launch this door is open, with Tex having already gotten comfortable at the fore of the cabin flanking the entryway to the cockpit.
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Post by DataNinja on Apr 7, 2017 2:04:30 GMT
As the days pass to the eventual ship launch, an aura of excitement builds in the air. Or, at least inside Evan. In fact, he feels a little bit giddy, in that no matter what happens, he'll have managed to leave Gol. The cynical part of him says that, given why he's leaving, his life probably isn't going to get any better, but the rest of him is loud enough to squelch that voice. For now.
Upon bidding his last adieus - or, rather adieu, since it's really just to Bill - he makes his way to the launch area. The next little bit passes in a blur, until he actually steps onto the ship. It's certainly not something he would have ever dreamed possible. Still constantly looking around, he nabs a window seat farthest away from where everyone else is. Purpose be damned, in the moment he just wants to see space, Gol, the Ark. And preferably not have someone peering over his shoulder to do it. Rosebud was bad enough while reading.
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Post by birdy51 on Apr 7, 2017 2:34:14 GMT
Hugh knows better than to bother Ace before such an important event as launching from the surface of Gol. Indeed, Hugh is a master of discretion, and knows that the young man will certainly be pressing buttons and doing things that Hugh does not understand. For his own safety and the safety of the crew, Hugh chooses not to bother the young man. After ensuring that all important cargo was accounted for, Hugh takes a seat across from Tex and smiles broadly in spite of his plight.
"My dear friend, here begins a new age for us! A new age of advancement and enlightenment! Could you believe that we are to become the first feet upon the surface of Gol in this generation? My heart, my heart cannot be stilled!"
Hugh shudders. "If only... If only we were not flying in this tin can of death. Have we been assured Ace knows how to fly this thing?"
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Post by ThRevanchist on Apr 7, 2017 6:38:06 GMT
With a similar result to their Chief of Security, but entirely different motive, Ulrich takes a seat more toward the center of the area, not willing to disturb his fellow researchers, embroiled in what intense discussion they were. Perhaps it was marveling at what a magnificent ship this was, too! And of course, there was little need to talk with either of the non-intellectual staff at the moment.
That was, until Hugh posed a question. Raising his voice a tad, so the giant would take note, he said, "Yes, the pilot - Ace, is definitely considered capable of handling the Odyssey. Which, I must remind you, is as far from a 'tin can' as our dear Gunshow to, say, the new groundskeeper... No, I would say even more than that!" It was mildly annoying that such an important vessel could be cheapened so, but even as Ulrich tried to correct the misconception with a firm frown, he couldn't help but wonder if it was worth the effort.
Besides, calling it a "can of death" was ridiculous; how could one not find comfort in the sturdy walls, build to seal them against the vast vacuum of space? So solid that even entry to the surface was not enough to breach them...! His frown decreasing to a less displeased mood, Ulrich said, "Nor do I agree with you calling it a 'technological marvel of death', so don't even try. This vessel is what will, together with the Carnate Engine, let us bring about that new age you're so confident of! And besides, as far as tombs go, there will never be better..." That last part was only muttered, but the thought was too curious not to voice, even as quietly as it had been. While it would be the worst way for the Project to end, and spell grave news for Gol, it was probably be the only place one could be preserved for any meaningful measure of time.
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Post by birdy51 on Apr 8, 2017 20:16:55 GMT
"You talk too much when I am not speaking to you." Hugh says with a grunt. The large man was yet uncertain to think of the unnerving little scientist with his strange habits and smarter-than-thou personality. It rubbed the goliath of perfection the wrong way, for even Ulrich's compliments had little barbs that either Tex or Ace had to point out to Hugh later. It bothered him.
Still. Ulrich knew what he was doing with the technology. Hugh did not. Therefore, he couldn't afford to box the scientist across the ears like he was pining to. No, no that would never do. If anything, it would jeopardize everything they had worked for to get this far. Yes. Hugh would be patient. Hugh would be fine. Hugh, is in a word, an endless well of patience that would never run dry.
Hugh takes the bait anyways.
"I don't care what you think, Ulrich. This thing is too cramped and squished together. It makes me feel sweatier than usual." His eyes scanned about, before spying a certain flighty young man in the corner by the window. "Why don't you sit near Little Evan. He has too much room."
A pause. Hugh leans in close conspiratorially and begins to whisper loudly. "Sometimes, I worry about him. Little Evan is so quiet. Like space mouse. 'Snicker, snicker, squeak!' All day long, he stays all curled up with his Dunsparce and Rosebud. Reading those... Books. I do not understand it!"
He frowns quietly. A few weeks back, Hugh asked Evan to start lifting weights and go running with him. Nothing builds bonds like exercise! But, he stopped coming. Or maybe, he never came at all. Or maybe he did come, but Hugh no longer remembered seeing him. Either way, he was too quiet and reading too much. It was untrustworthy!
Or maybe it was just Evan. Hugh, though a great and mighty man, could not pretend to understand some people. It was one of the few flaws he allowed himself to admit.
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I'm not going to say it was damage, but it was damage.
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Post by Robot on Apr 16, 2017 11:45:11 GMT
Tex settles in a few chairs down from Hugh, giving himself plenty of space to sprawl and begins belting in. "Easy boys, we're all a bit nervous, Hugh wasn't insulting your precious tech Ulrich. 'Sides, all we have to go on that this thing won't just explode when we fire it up is your fancy science, so we're showing fatal levels of trust already." He chuckles softly to himself.
A low whine begins to build in the hangar, rails humming to life a bright electric blue around the ship. With an uneven jolt it hefts into the center of the space and bobs there slowly like a cork on a calm ocean after it at last settles. "This is your captain speaking... goddamn feels good to say that haha... Belt in if you haven't already, they've got the railway all fired up. Just waiting on my signal to get going. You're all first time fliers, so let me explain a couple of things about gravity, and G-Force." Tex quirked an eyebrow at Hugh. "Ace is actually being helpful for once, and seems to know what he was doing without being full of himself? What is this?"
"So, gravity a force that all things exert, the larger the object the more gravity it puts off. It is based both on the size of the object, and the size of the object being pulled. You yourself have a 'specific gravity', it's like a base weight, but the Ark's personal gravity is higher than Gol's. We'll be heavier on the surface by a large margin. Anyway, leaving Gol, we're all going to be taking 2 and some G's, which actually has nothing to do with any of that shit but it was kinda important." Hugh's fellow security just smirked and belted in.
"Anyway, when you get going over a certain speed, it screws with your inner ear, alters your blood pressure, and does a bunch of wonky shit to your body. We're about to do that, so if you've got a weak stomach, probably expect to throw up or black out. Takes me back to my academy days." There's a laugh over the comms.
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